All language subtitles for War.And.Peace,Part IV.Pierre Bezukho..CRITERION.RUSSIAN..1967.1080p.BluRay.x265.10bit.AAC 5.1 Tigole_Legendas01.ENG-eng

MOSFILM

LEO TOLSTOY

WAR AND PEACE

PIERRE BEZUKHOV

Directed by SERGEII BONDARCHUK

Screen Adaptation by
SERGEI BONDARCHUK, VASILY SOLOVYOV

Chief Cameraman ANATOLY PETRITSKY

Art Direction by MIKHAIL BOGDANOV,
GENNADY MYASNIKOV

Assistant Art Directors SEMYON VALYUSHEK,
SAID MENYALSHCHIKOV

Music Composed by
VYACHESLAV OVCHINNIKOV

Sound Engineers
YURI MIKHAILOV, IGOR URBANTSEV

Assistant Directors ANATOLY CHEMODUROV
A. SHIR-AKHMEDOVA, A. ALESHIN

Edited by TATIANA LIKHACHEVA

Cameraman DMITRI KORZHIKHIN
Pyrotechnician VLADIMIR LIKHACHEV

Moscow Symphony Orchestra
All-Union Radio and TV Chorus and Orchestra

Conducted by VYACHESLAV OVCHINNIKOV

Starring

Pierre Bezukhov - SERGEII BONDARCHUK

Natasha Rostova - LUDMILA SAVELYEVA

Andrei Bolkonsky - VYACHESLAV TIKHONOV

llya Andreyevich Rostov - V. STANITSYN

Countess Rostova - K. GOLOVKO

Petya Rostov - S. YERMILOV

Sonya - I. GUBANOVA
Princess Marya - A. SHURANOVA

Nikolushka - A. SEMIN
Prince Vasily - B. SMIRNOV

Scherer - A. STEPANOVA

Kutuzov - BORIS ZAKHAVA
Karatayev - M. KHRABROV

Denisov - N. RYBNIKOV
Tikhon Shcherbaty - S. CHEKAN

Napoleon - VLADISLAV STRZHELCHIK

Ramballe - JEAN-CLAUDE BALLARD
Morel - YU. MILLYAR

Davout - B. MOLCHANOV
Lauriston - D. POLYAKOV

The question we're meeting to discuss
is the question of...

the war.

The next question.

The salvation of Russia lies in her army.

Is it better to risk
the loss of the army and Moscow

by giving battle...

or to abandon Moscow without a battle?

I would like to hear your opinions
on this question.

I do not believe the game is lost.

The only way to save our holy city

is to attack the opponent.

Can it be that I have let Napoleon
get as far as Moscow?

And when did I do it?

When was it —

When was it
that this horrible thing happened?

The thought of having to give the order
filled him with dismay.

And so, gentlemen,

it is left to me

to pay for the broken pots.

Gentlemen, I've heard your views.

Some of you will not agree with me.

But I —

By the authority given me
by my czar and my country,

I give the order to retreat.

This — This I did not expect.

This I did not imagine.

You must rest, Your Excellency.

But no!

They will eat horsemeat, like the Turks!

They will eat it.

If only...

On the night of September 1,

Kutuzov gave the Russian troops
the order to retreat —

going through Moscow
on the road to Ryazan.

You know, ma cherie, I wanted to tell you.

My dear countess.

An officer came here
asking for wagons for the wounded.

Unload the wagons!
Give them to the wounded!

All the wagons are for the wounded.

Take our trunks and put them away.

What about the coachman?
Shall I dismiss him?

Oh, yes.

Listen, Gerasim,
I beg you to do exactly as I say.

I am at your service.
Would you like something to eat?

No. I need something else.

I need —

I need peasant clothes and a pistol.

- Whose carriage is that?
- The prince's.

He is wounded.
- Who? What's his name?

Our former betrothed — Prince Bolkonsky.
They say he's dying.

Well, God be with us.

- Gracious! Look, it's him.
- Who?

Look. It's Bezukhov!

Pyotr Kirilych!

Come over here. We know it's you!

Pyotr Kirilych! Look over here!

Why are you dressed like that?

What is this, Count?

What? What? Why?

Don't ask questions.

- Are you staying in Moscow?
- In Moscow? Yes.

Good-bye.

How I wish I were a man!
I would stay with you. How terrific.

Mother, please let me stay.

- We heard you were at the battle.
- I was there.

Tomorrow, there will be another battle.

But what's the matter, Count?
You are not yourself!

Don't ask. I don't know myself.

Tomorrow — No. Good-bye!

It's a terrible time.

Good-bye!

It suddenly felt to him
that everything was coming to an end.

Everything was mixed-up.

Everything had collapsed.

Ahead lay emptiness,

and there was no way out.

Here it is.

The holy capital.

It lies at my feet, awaiting its fate.

Strange, beautiful.

Majestic city.

But why is the city deputation
so long in coming?

Sire, Moscow is empty.
Everyone has left.

Who goes there —
Russians or our own troops?

Our own troops! The French!

To arms! Charge!

See them? There they are!

To arms!

It's them! Merciful heaven!

My God! They're here.
Four of them, on horses!

Put up the horses. I salute you!

Are you the master of the house?

Quarters.

Quarters! Lodgings.

The French are good lads.

Don't make me angry, old fellow.
Show me the rooms.

I don't understand you.

“No understand. No understand.”

Run them down!

- Are you wounded?
- I think not.

But I have had a narrow escape.

- Who is this man?
- I'm so sorry.

Brigand, you shall pay for this!

We are merciful after victory,
but we hate cowards!

Please forgive this drunken imbecile.
He did not know what he was doing.

You saved my life. You are French.

I'm Captain Ramballe
of the 13th Light Regiment.

I am Russian.

Tell that to the others.
What shall we do with this man?

I owe you my life.
You ask me to pardon him? Gladly.

Exquisite.

Your Christian name, please.
I ask nothing more.

Monsieur Pierre, you say?
Perfect. That's all I want to know.

I am deeply grateful to you
for saving me from that madman.

I have bullets enough in my body.

One from Wagram, two from Smolensk.

And this leg — which doesn't walk well-
at the great battle of Moscow.

Good Lord, it was fine!
You put up quite a fight.

You can boast of that, my friend.

I was there.

Really? So much the better.

You are fine enemies, though.
Fine men.

Our king of Naples knows good men,
and he cried, “Bravo!

Soldiers, like ourselves!”

So much the better, Monsieur Pierre.

Fearsome in war, gallant with the women —
that's the French!

Is it true that all the women
have left Moscow?

What a curious idea.
What had they to fear?

Wouldn't the French ladies leave Paris
if the Russians were to enter it?

That's a good one. Paris!

- But Paris —
- Paris is the capital of the world.

A man who doesn't know Paris
is simply a barbarian.

Vodka?

I'd know a Parisian a mile away. Paris!

Paris is Talma, La Duchesnois,

Pothier, the Sorbonne, the boulevards.

Exquisite.

To return to your ladies,
they are said to be beautiful.

Why flee to the steppes
when the French army is in Moscow?

What a chance they have lost.

Your peasants I understand,

but you civilized people
ought to know better.

We have taken Vienna, Berlin, Rome,

Naples, Madrid, Warsaw —
all the capitals of the world.

We are feared, but loved.
We are worth knowing.

And then, the emperor —

What of the emperor?

The emperor
is the greatest man of all time.

Is he in Moscow?

No, he will make his entry tomorrow.

The emperor is the epitome
of glory, genius, generosity —

Take it from me. I know him well.

Are you sad?

Morel, another bottle of wine!

No, that's not Mytishchi. It's farther.

Look. That's Moscow.

- Of course it's Mytishchi.
- That's all on the other side.

Look how it burns.

This, ladies and gentlemen,
is the burning of Moscow.

There go Suschevsky and Rogozhskaya.

How awful!

I believe all Moscow is burning.

What a terrible glow.

Natasha, look now.

You can see it from the window.

Look, Natasha.

Look how it's burning.

What's burning?

Oh, yes. Moscow.

But you didn't even see it.

Really, I did.

From the time Natasha had been told
that Prince Andrei was wounded

and that she could not see him

because he was seriously wounded —
although his life was not in danger —

she would not believe what they told her.

But seeing that she would always
get the same answer,

she gave up asking questions
and even speaking.

Are you cold? You're shivering.
Go lie down.

Lie down?

Yes, all right. I'll go to bed right now.

Lie down in my bed.

No, Mama, I'll lie here on the floor.

Mama.

It's you.

I'm so happy.

- Forgive me.
- I love you.

- Forgive me.
- For what?

Forgive me...

for what... I did.

I love you more,

better than before.

He had resolved to conceal his name

and remain in Moscow
in order to kill Napoleon

and either to perish
or to end the suffering of all Europe.

She was burned!

Oh, my God!

Good Christians!

My daughter was left behind!
She burned to death!

She burned! My daughter!

You're a good man.

The fire started up next door.
Then it spread to our home.

We ran out as we were,
snatching up these things —

an icon and some bedding.

Oh, God! Everything was lost.

We saved the children,
but we couldn't find my Katechka!

Oh, God!

Where was she left behind?

Good, kind sir! My protector!

Set my heart at ease!

Aniska, show him the way!

Show me the way.
I'll see what I can do.

She burned to death!

This way, sir.

We have to go through the lane.
This way.

- Which is your house?
- That's it!

That's where our place was.

She's burned to death!
My little treasure!

Katechka! My little darling!

- Is there a child in that house?
- What does he want?

What are you doing here?

Have you seen a child in this house?

I did hear something crying in the garden.

Perhaps it's his brat.
We must be humane.

Just a minute.

Wait. I'll come down.

Hurry. It's getting hot.

Let's find your kid.

Here's your brat.

Ah, a little girl? So much the better.

Good-bye. Must be humane.

We're all mortal, you know.

Have you lost someone, sir?

You must be a nobleman.
Whose child is it?

A woman in a dark cloak
was sitting here with her children.

Where has she gone?

It must be the Anferovs' child.

The Anferovs left this morning.
It must be Marya Nikolayevna's.

He said “woman,”
but Marya Nikolayevna is a “lady.”

It is Marya Nikolayevna's.

She went off to the garden
when those wolves pounced on us.

These boots are nice.

Take the child. Give her to them.

Let that woman be!

Lieutenant, he has a dagger.

You'll explain to the military court.

He looks like an arsonist to me.

Take him away.

He doesn't look like a commoner.

This way.

Sir! What am I to do with the little girl?

What am I to do with the child
if she's not theirs?

What does she want?

What does she want?

She is carrying my daughter.
I rescued her from the fire.

Good-bye.

“Your Most Gracious Czar and Emperor” —

Peaceful, luxurious,

troubled only by the phantoms
and reflections of real life,

life in St. Petersburg
went on in its old way.

It was only with great effort
that one could realize

the danger and the difficult position
the Russian nation was in.

In Scherer's salon,
they read the bishop's letter to the czar

sent along with an icon of St. Sergius.

“Let the brazen and insolent Goliath
from the borders of France

encompass the realm of Russia
with the horrors of death.

Humble faith,

the sling of the Russian David” —

Another piece of news for St. Petersburg

was the sudden death of Hélene Bezukhova.

“It is most unfortunate
that failing strength

denies me the pleasure of seeing you” —

Who are you?

I know this man.

You cannot know me, General.
I have never seen you.

He is a Russian spy.

No, my lord.

No, my lord. You could not know me.

I have never left Moscow.

Your name?

Bezukhowv.

What proof is there that you're not lying?

My lord.

How will you prove the truth
of what you tell me?

I am known by Monsieur Ramballe,

Captain of the 13th Light Regiment.

You are not what you say.

My lord.

The emperor awaits you for dinner.

Take him away.

My lord, what shall we do with him?

Take him away.

Yes, of course.

Here they come. Look!

In the name of the emperor and king —

on this eighth day of September 1812 —

the military judicial commission
sentences the accused

to death by firing squad.

Who is it that is punishing me,
killing me,

taking my life

with all my memories,
my strivings, my thoughts?

Who is doing it?

Who then is doing this?

They all suffer as I do.

Who then? Who then is doing it?

No one.

It is the course of things,

the way things work out.

Leave the stout one.

No! Don't! Don't!

Have you seen a lot of trouble, sir?

You mustn't worry, my friend.

Endure it for an hour,
live on for a century.

That's how it is, dear man.
That's how it is.

Who are you, a soldier?

We're soldiers from the Apsheron Regiment.

I nearly died of fever.

Twenty of our men were down with it.

We never imagined this.

We never imagined this.

This rascal's come.
She remembers me.

All right, all right.

Here. Eat this, sir.

There was soup for dinner.
The potatoes are first-rate.

Not like that.

Like this.

You eat them —

Here, like this.

First-rate potatoes.

I haven't done anything,

but why did they shoot those poor devils?

The last one was hardly 20.

What a crime.

Wherever judgment is passed,
injustice reigns.

Have you been here long?

Me? Yes. Since Sunday.
They took me from the hospital in Moscow.

They call me Platon.

Platon Karatayeuv.

They called me “little hawk”
in the regiment.

Aren't you miserable here?

The little hawk miserable?
How can one not be miserable?

Moscow is the mother of cities.

How can you not be sad looking at her?

Oh, well.

The worm gnaws at the cabbage
but dies ‘fore it's done.

- That's what the old folks say.
- What did you say?

It's not by our wit, but as God sees fit.
Right?

You'll want to get some sleep.

You rascal. Warmed up?

Sweet bitch.

Lay me down like a stone, O Lord,
and raise me like new bread.

Not only did Prince Andrei know
he was going to die,

but he already felt like he was aying,

that he was already half-dead.

It was that last spiritual struggle
between life and death

in which death gains the victory.

Neither impatient nor troubled,

he lay waiting for what was before him —

the menacing,

the eternal,

the unknown and remote.

You're not asleep?

No.

I've been looking at you for a long while.

Natasha.

I love you far too much.

More than anything in the world.

What about me?

But why too much?

Why too much?

What are you thinking?

What do you feel in your heart,

deep within your soul?

Will I live?

I'm sure of it!

That would be so good.

You haven't slept.

Try to sleep.

Please.

Yes, that was death.

I was dead, and I awoke.

Yes. Death is an awakening.

Hello, Marie.

How did you get here?

Have you brought Nikolushka?

Are you crying for Nikolushka?

You mustn't cry here.

I would be cursed by posterity

if I were regarded as the instigator
of any sort of accommodation.

Such is the will of our people.

He asked for peace,

but he received neither a negative answer

nor any answer at all.

With his entire being, Kutuzov felt

that the tremendous blow
struck at Borodino —

for which he and the Russian people
had expended all their strength —

must have been a mortal blow.

But proof was needed.

From Dokhturov and Alexei Petrovich.

Come closer.

What news have you brought?

Napoleon has marched out of Moscow?

Is this true?

Napoleon has left Moscow, Your Excellency.

His advance guard is in Fominsk.

Dear Lord, Creator!

You have heard our prayers.

Russia is saved.

Hey, Platoche?
What are you waiting for?

On your feet!

Well, too bad. Kill him.

She came.

And Platosha?

They began looking.

Where's that little old man
who had suffered, innocent?

They began looking.

But God had taken pity on him.
He was dead.

That is life.

That is Karatayev.

He is absorbed and extinguished.

It's all so simple and clear.

How was it I did not know that before?

Life is everything.

Halt! Step back!

Go on!

The soldier wouldn't let me pass.

They have caught me,

shut me up.

They keep me prisoner.

Who, me? Me?

Me! My immortal soul!

All that there is is mine!

And all that is in me.

And all that is me!

From the general.
Sorry, but it's not very dry.

What's this, a prisoner?

You've been in battle.
Can I talk to him?

Rostov! Petya!

Why didn't you say so?

Who are you?

Is it all right if I stay with you
for a day?

I was told to find things out.
This is the way to do it.

Only you have to let me in
on the real thing.

I don't care about any rewards.

- l want —-
- The real thing.

Let me be in command.
Put me in command.

What'll it cost you!

Look at this knife.

- That's a good knife.
- Keep it, please.

I have others like it.

Good gracious! I completely forgot.

I have raisins. They're delicious.

No pits.

I bought ten pounds' worth.

I like sweet things.

Please have some, gentlemen.

Do you need a coffeepot?
I bought one from our sutler.

He has some first-rate things.
And he's honest.

I'll send it to you. Don't worry.

May I call that boy over,
the one who was taken prisoner?

Maybe give him something to eat.

Yes. I feel sorry for the boy.

Call him. His name's Vincent.

Excellent!

How splendid!

A Rostov. Blood tells.

Well, Karabakh,
tomorrow we'll do good service.

Not sleeping, sir? Get some rest.

No.

Your name's Likhacheyv, isn't it?

I never sleep before a battle.

Aren't the flints in your pistol worn out?

No.

I brought some with me.
Do you need any? Take some.

I like to do everything properly.

Some men don't get things ready
and then regret it. Not me.

Just so.

Could you sharpen my saber for me?
It's dull.

Could you do that?
- Of course.

What, are the men sleeping?

Some are. Not others.

What about that French boy, Vincent?

He's fast asleep.
He's curled up on the porch.

He's sleeping from the fright.

Of course, I'm dreaming.

I'm only hearing things.

It's ready, Your Lordship.

You can split a Frenchman
down the middle with it.

I ask one thing.

Do as I say
and don't push yourself forward.

The signal!

Go around! Wait for the infantry!

Wait?

Hurrah!

- Done for.
- Killed!

Petya!

My son!

It's not true!

Natasha! Natasha!

It's not true! It's not true!

Go away, all of you!
It's not true! They killed him!

- Mama, darling!
- It's not true!

No! It's not true!
- Mama, dear!

Mama, dearest!
- No!

It's not true! It's not true!

Mama.

Mama.

Natasha, do you love me?

Will you tell me the truth?

Mama, dear...

Napoleon, under the assumed name
of the Prince of Vicenza,

left his army and departed for Paris.

Soldiers! I shall do everything I promised!

You've seen your emperor
Share your dangers and fatigue.

I also intend for you to see your emperor
clothed in the grandeur

and the splendor worthy of the sovereign
of the first nation of the world.

Soldiers! Thanks to you,
the Italian army of Austria —

which had the insolent pretension

of shattering my crown —

IS now defeated, annihilated,

exemplifying the truth of my motto.

Dio la mi diede,
guai a chi la tocca.

‘God hath given it to me.
Woe to whomever touches it!”

Soldiers! Your mission now
Is not to defend your frontiers,

but to carry the war to enemy land.

Soldiers! When I promised
the French peace, I spoke for you.

I know your worth.

You vanquished the Rhine, Holland, Italy

and dictated peace
at the walls of an astounded Vienna.

Soldiers! You must wish to return
to France only by the path of honor.

And we shall return to our homeland,
marching in triumph!

Soldiers! This is the battle
you have so longed for.

Victory depends on you.

It is essential for us.
It will give us comfortable quarters

and a speedy return to our country.

Fight as you fought at Austerlitz,
at Friedland,

at Vitebsk and Smolensk.

Let our remotest posterity recall
your achievements and say with pride,

‘He was in the great battle
before Moscow!”

And blessed be the people
who in the hour of trial,

without asking how others,
acting by the rules,

behaved in similar circumstances,

simply and easily raise the first cudgel
that falls into their hands

and smite with it

until the feelings of resentment
and revenge in their souls

change to scorn and pily.

He's says he's Captain Ramballe's orderly.

He's an officer. Get him warmed up.

- An officer?
- Yes.

Take him to the colonel.

Good men.

These are men! My men.

My good friends.

Drink up.

You'll be fine. It's all right.

It's all right.

Long live Henri IV

Long live this valiant king

Teach me. I'll get it in no time.

Long live Henri IV

Long live this valiant king

This fourfold devil

With the three talents

Of drinking, fighting

and womanizing

I love the ladies

And I love good wine

I love the ladies

And I love good wine

For all jolly fellows

This is our song

I love the ladies

And I love good wine

Fewer army marauders

Would have troubled our families

Fewer army marauders

Would have troubled our families...

They're people like us.

Even weeds grow on your own soil.

Dear God, what a lot of stars.

That's a sign of a good harvest year.

Lower. Drop the head lower.

Lower. Lower.

That's it.

Hurrah, lads!

I thank everyone

for your hard and faithful service.

Our victory is complete.

Russia will not forget you.

Your glory will live forever.

Now, brothers,

I know it's hard on you.

But there's nothing we can do.

Be patient. It will soon be over.

We'll see our guests out,
and then we shall rest.

It's hard on you, but you're at home.

But for them?

You see what they've come to.

Worse than the lowliest beggars.

When they were strong,
we didn't spare ourselves.

But now, we can spare them.

They're human beings too.

Right, lads?

But after all is said and done,
who asked them to come here?

It serves them right

to have their snouts pushed into the mud.

Only now has Pierre discovered,
not with his intellect

but with his whole being and his life

that man is created for happiness.

He looked around him with joy

and contemplated the ever-changing,
always majestic,

incomprehensible and infinite life.

This is how we meet again.

He often spoke of you,
even in his last moments.

I was so glad to hear that you were safe.

It was the only good news
we had had in a long time.

I had no idea what was happening to him.

I thought he had been killed.

All I knew was what I heard...

from strangers third-hand.

I only know
that he found his way to the Rostovs.

It was fate.

Don't you recognize her?

If I were not... what I am,

but the handsomest most clever
and best man in the world —

and if I were free —

at this moment I would be on my knees
to beg for your hand

and your love.

Greetings to the whole world!

And I say, let us take one another's hand,

all people who cherish goodness,

and let there be only one banner —

that of active virtue.

I mean to say only that all ideas
that have momentous consequences

are always simple.

My idea is that if evil men
are linked with one another

and are thereby made strong,

then honest men, too, must do likewise.

It's as simple as that.

THE END

© FSUE Cinema Concern “Mosfilm”, 2017